A Little Piece Of Something
by ipona
Summary: Alfred is the king of Spades and Arthur is his beloved queen. When Arthur meets the king of Diamonds at a ball, things turn a bit complicated. Main pairing France/England, America/England on the side, Cardverse AU, rated M for smut.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This was supposed to be a kink meme fill. But then I strayed from the prompt, orz. But I am in so much love with the cardverse that I had to continue writing it. That and FrUK is steadily becoming my OTP and I love writing it._

_I will stop rambling now and I hope you like it so far! :D_

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><p>Arthur had never liked people much, so when Alfred decided that it was time for yet another ball at the royal palace, Arthur had accepted his fate to stay in his golden seat in the corner of the room, silently watching as Alfred conversed and made ties with all the royals he had invited to come join them this fine evening.<p>

The royal balls were rarely more than an annoying hassle for Arthur, even now, after having been the Queen of Spades for several years.

He had married Alfred four years ago, on a stunning day in July. It had at the time been the best day of Arthur's life, saying his vows, swearing eternal loyalty, draped in white, with blue roses covering the ground.

Nineteen years old, he had met the young prince, now turned king, and they had fallen in love on the spot. Alfred's blue eyes and his bright smile had swept Arthur off his feet, and into a marriage. They met by chance, in the town, the prince running into Arthur, knocking him to the ground, ruining his entire attire.

As Arthur had sworn and shouted at the younger man, Alfred had just smiled, said that he would most likely repay everything and more, only he got his name. Little did Arthur know the young man would court him, along with brand new clothing came three dozen red roses and a note confessing love and adoration.

By soon he had fallen for the childish and carefree prince.

Now, on the other hand, things were different. Arthur looked out over the room, green eyes scanning their guests.

The room was a big one, obviously, and excessively decorated with the deep blue and violet so often associated with the Kingdom of Spades. Alfred had always thought that big was the same thing as better, and it showed in how he had re-decorated the castle as he was crowned king.

The large windows had been adorned with long silk drapes, all deep blue with white details around the edges. Every chair and sofa were clad in matching fabric, with various whimsical patterns and textures.

It was all a bit... boring. After seeing nothing but blue and dark, Arthur longed after something a bit more lively. After being surrounded by patterns and trinkets, he wanted something more refined.

And Alfred himself, while still gorgeous and at times irresistible, was getting on Arthur's very last nerves. He was rarely ever home, always having business to attend to elsewhere, never bothering to tell Arthur how things were going.

Instead he just told Arthur that these were no matters for a queen, and that his lovely beauty should just be still and not worry about the things that the heroic king easily could manage all on his own.

Arthur shifted in his seat, eyes flying across the room. The room was filled with people, men in proper suits and women in beautiful dresses flying over the floor in wild dances. Arthur never much fancied dancing, to Alfred's big sorrow. The king of Spades however, always managed to dance with all the prettiest of ladies, not caring much about Arthur. It didn't phase him, really.

His eyes lingered for a moment on a gentleman in gold, as he stood out from the crowd. He recognized the man as the king of Diamonds, ruler of the kingdom just south of Spades. Arthur had never really cared for his name, as he had never properly met him, but only heard of him from Alfred.

For a moment he thought he caught the man looking back, but it seemed to be only his eyes playing him a trick for when he caught him with his gaze the next time, he was dancing a wild dance with a woman dressed in the fanciest of dresses, with ribbons and lace, green to the color.

Gracious smile plastered on his lips, he spun and dipped her, his orange cape twisting and fluttering around him. He definitely knew what he was doing, and Arthur decided that he was most certainly a pompous bastard who thought himself to be irresistible, a god amongst men. He seemed like the type for it.

Turning his attention to his own king for a second, he noticed that Alfred was coming over to his safe hideaway in the corner where no one dared to approach him, taking a break in his eternal bonding with people whose names Arthur didn't care for.

"Hey Artie." Alfred's smile was as bright as always, and possibly even kinder than usual. Arthur rolled his eyes at the nickname. "How are you?"

"I am quite alright. How are things faring with our guests?"

"Loosen up, sweetie," Alfred laughed. "You would know if you actually talked to them."

"I don't see how I am obligated to participate in your pointless little socializations."

"Because you're my queen," the king leaned in to kiss his queen sweetly on the lips, "And I love you."

How this man managed to always be this cheesy, to always turn Arthur's angry insults into a confession of love, was a mystery for Arthur. It intrigued him at the same time as it drove him up the walls.

"Now, the king of Clubs demands my attention. Don't kill yourself having fun!"

Arthur scowled at him, but Alfred paid him no more attention to him as he turned his back to him to instead greet a tall man in green. Ivan was his name, if Arthur was not completely mistaken.

So, just as he prepared to spend the rest of the evening alone with the view of a crowded ball room and the memory of Alfred's kiss, as his only companions, she got interrupted by someone greeting him with a low, sensual voice; "Hello, my queen."

The man, still faintly familiar as the king of Diamonds, had walked up to him. He was dressed in a long orange coat, over a pair of matching pants and a beige shirt. A crown sat securely on his head as his hair fell down to his shoulders, golden blonde to the color.

As he reached over to give Arthur a small orange flower, his blue eyes twinkled with a spark of sensual elegance.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, giving Arthur a wink.

"Who's asking?" Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, eyeing the man critically, refusing to acknowledge the flower thrust in his face.

"Oh, excuse my rudeness, I assumed the host would know who his guests are," the man said, almost seeming offended. Then he extended his hand. "Francis Bonnefoy. King of Diamonds."

Arthur glanced at the offered hand and then at Francis' face before hesitantly taking it in his own.

"Arthur Kirkland Jones. Queen of Spades"

"Oh, I know very well who you are, my dear."

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur stared at Francis. The other man seemed to pay no attention to it as he bowed down and brought Arthur's hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. As he retreated, he met Arthur's eyes again, with a sensual smile that sent sparks to his stomach.

"So, how about that dance?"

"I do not think my king would approve of that."

"He is that possessive?" Francis looked very disbelieving. "I doubt that."

"No, I just don't think he would trust you to keep your hands where they belong," Arthur answered, starting to get bored of this conversation.

"I'm more interested," Francis said, voice as soft as honey as he took Arthur's hand and pulled him up against his chest. "In what you think."

"What I think of what?" Arthur shot back, trying not to sound breathless as Francis' proximity made his heart beat a little faster.

"What do you think, lovely?" Francis was close enough to whisper in his ear at this point, and that warm breath sent unwanted shivers down Arthur's spine. "Of me, of course."

Arthur's resolve broke, "Fine, you may have one dance."

"Lovely," Francis grinned and pulled at Arthur's hand until they almost bumped into other couples on the floor. Francis guided Arthur's hand to his shoulder and put his own on Arthur's waist. "You know how to waltz, yes?"

"Of course, what do you think I am?" Arthur snapped, "Some indecent peasant?"

Francis chuckled and spun Arthur around over the floor. "From what I've heard, that's what you were. Before you met Alfred."

"What?" Arthur gasped. Francis' hand on his waist pressed him closer as they gracefully moved over the floor.

"Am I incorrect?" Francis pressed closer still, their faces merely centimeters apart, breaths mingling between them.

"No," Arthur sighed. "But you do seem awfully nosey."

"Your whole affair is quite well-known, dear."

"Really?"

Francis spun him around, pulled him close again, and dipped him.

"Really," he breathed against Arthur's lips, eyes sparkling dangerously. Arthur swallowed hard, the closeness, Francis' cologne and the heavy atmosphere making his mind go dull and his heart race. It was as if they weren't at all speaking of Arthur's marriage and rather something far more forbidden, far more... pleasurable.

"Francis," Alfred's voice suddenly sounded, interrupting the tension between the two men, "Having fun with my queen?"

The king of Spades closed in on the duo, a strained smile on his lips. Francis stood up straight and let Arthur go, the closeness and the heat and the tension gone as if it never even was there.

"I enjoy dancing, Alfred," Francis smiled, only slightly more carefree and less strained. "You know this."

"And this is a ball, so you should. I didn't mean to interrupt," Alfred said, but still, he wrapped a possessive arm around Arthur's waist. Feeling the calm warmth of Alfred was different from Francis' fiery heat, but Arthur tried not to think about that.

"We were pretty much done, were we not, Arthur?" Francis directed his attention to Arthur, who was slightly flushed in Alfred's grip. He winked at the man, blue eyes bearing a flirty tinge that Arthur hoped Alfred wouldn't pick up on.

"Yes, indeed we were."

"Splendid," Alfred exclaimed, "I had to talk to you."

Leading him away, Alfred kept his hand glued to Arthur's waist. Arthur glanced back, seeing Francis gaze after them for a second before turning his step elsewhere. Probably towards some poor, innocent man or woman who had caught his eye. Again, he seemed the type for it.

"I thought you didn't dance," Alfred muttered in his ear, causing him to turn his head towards his king.

"I don't," Arthur sighed, not feeling up to explaining the whole event. "He was just very persistent."

"Did he force you to something?" Alfred suddenly seemed worried, and maybe a tad bit angry, eyed wide and mouth sharply twisted.

"No," Arthur assured, putting his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Not to worry."

"Good." Alfred glanced across the room over Arthur's shoulder, gaze searching for a certain man dressed in orange. "Otherwise I would have to resort to some drastic methods."

Arthur sighed. Alfred was just a little bit possessive, not liking when people touched what he considered his, no matter what it was. He was not surprised when Alfred had not actually wanted to tell him something, and neither was he shocked when the king refused to let him go back to his corner. Instead he kept him close, a warm hand resting on his waist as Alfred dragged him across the room to talk to guests Arthur had never heard the name of.

Ever so slightly he could feel his attention drop away from nameless faces and faceless names, to something else, or someone rather, someone with a long bright cape. He mentally slapped himself, forcing his mind to stop this complete and utter madness.

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	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for all the faves, alerts and kind reviews! It really make me happy. Anyway, here's chapter two, with a bit more romance. :)_

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><p>The ball was a great success, at least Alfred boasted enough for Arthur to think so. Arthur himself was happy as long as he didn't have to clean the mess up after the guests. That was what maids were for, and Arthur was getting used to just going to bed after a busy day, only to wake up to find the house in an impeccable state again.<p>

Waking up in his bed the next morning, Arthur was alone in the large bed he shared with Alfred. He heard his spouse's voice form outside the bedroom door, speaking loudly to someone who Arthur would guess to be one of the maids. Getting up and slipping on a simple amethyst robe, he decided to join his king for breakfast. He could not make out the words falling from Alfred's mouth, but as he got closer, the younger man noticed him.

"Morning, honey," he greeted Arthur as he rushed to his side, kissing his cheek.

"Morning," Arthur yawned. "Breakfast?"

"I have to go, Arthur," Alfred said, almost looking a bit guilty, fidgeting, with his eyes set towards the ground, "I'm going away today, remember?"

"Oh, yes," Arthur sighed, faintly recalling conversations from a few days ago concerning the matter. "Where to this time?"

"Hearts." Alfred seemed excited to go to the kingdom of Hearts, a small, but powerful country south-east of Spades. "Ludwig wanted me there for a treaty of his. Might take a week or so."

A queasy feeling filled Arthur's stomach. Once again his king left him to tend to himself, for an unspecified lapse of time. "Yes, of course. Be safe."

Alfred pressed a kiss to his cheek and sent a sunny smile his way, just as he turned around and headed out the door. The lingering sensation felt cold on his face and he wiped his cheek as he headed through long hallways with large windows, draped in blue and violet. Sometimes it was as if the castle had not seen sunlight an ages, beside the dim light that shone from the dusty windows. The maids were certainly falling behind on the cleaning of this place.

Breakfast was not something Arthur tended to himself either. Not that he didn't want to, or could, it was just that the chefs and maids in the kitchen would not let him in. Instead they just pushed a tray of delicious food in his hands, then slammed the door in his face. Rude, as most of the personnel was when Alfred was gone.

The dining hall was also a large, vast room, the same night sky theme stretching over it, with dark flooring, midnight blue drapes covering the walls and matching cloths hung over the long tables. They seemed too large for a household that basically only consisted by Alfred and Arthur and their maids, just like the vast halls of the castle.

Leaving his plate sitting on the table – the maids would pick it up anyway – Arthur decided that a day as fine as this one should not be spent indoors.

After having gone back to his room to pick out an outfit appropriate for the glorious outdoors, he opened the heavy oak gate that led to the garden, and had to squint when he was met by the sun's bright light, shining down over the garden just outside.

In contrast to the castle, the garden was colorful and perky, the scents and sights always able to lighten Arthur's mood as he entered this paradise of flowers, abandoning the gloomy castle walls for a yard full of roses and lilies and tulips, plants imported from all over the world, planted to make this personal garden of Eden for Arthur and Alfred.

It was Alfred who had built this garden, specifically for them – so in a sense, it was their own special place, where no one could get them, hidden away from a world of war and conflict to make love on a bed of roses.

Roses had thorns though, and Arthur's dream had turned bitter in the last couple of months. So he resorted to the woods. Through a valve clad with flowers, one could enter the widespread and thick forest, a narrow path leading deep into the wilderness.

This path was also Alfred's though, and so Arthur strayed, choosing to jump over a low stone wall and into the undiscovered depths of the forest.

Footsteps that sounded softly as they fell over the bed of leaves on the ground and Arthur's breath becoming slightly laboured were the only sounds beside the natural ruffle of leaves in the woods, and Arthur felt closer to nature than he had in a long time. He moved easily over uneven ground and low branches, for once not caring if his shiny black boots got dirty, or if his thin blue coat got ripped.

The forest thinned out, rather suddenly, and Arthur found himself standing in the outskirts of a small glade. A few meters in front of him, laid someone on the mossy ground.

"Hello?" Arthur called out, taking a few steps to look at the figure in the grass.

His stomach fluttered and turned with something Arthur would explain away as shock or repulsion, or anything but shivering excitement. Laying there on the ground, fair hair spreading over the green ground, was no one but the king of Diamonds himself, all draped in white and yellow. Cracking one eye open, he smiled at Arthur.

"Hello, my queen."

"What," Arthur began as he grabbed for the sword he kept in his belt at all times when he left the secure confines on the castle. "Are you doing here?"

"Can a man not take a nap in the forest without being questioned?" Francis voice sounded awfully happy as he sat up, resting back on his hands while staring at Arthur.

"In case you are not aware," Arthur said as he pulled out his sword from its sheath and extended it towards Francis. "You are in the kingdom of Spades without permission. That would be considered a crime."

"Oh?" Francis looked more amused than scared as he stood up, eyes shifting between Arthur's face and the blade in his hand. "You are certain you can not let it slip?"

The grin that rose to Francis' face was poisonous, dangerous, and it made Arthur wonder why in the name of all gods, he was doing this. He had never been much of a sword fighter – he preferred arrows and bows – and the skills he had acquired during his years with Alfred were very limited.

At the same time, a curiosity sparked in him – just what would Francis do next? What were his plans? What went on inside than blonde head of his?

"As queen of Spades, I can not do that," he said, at last, voice strong and proud as he stood straight, spine stiff and arm extended, following Francis' movements as the man confidently took a few steps around him, eyeing him curiously.

"You," Francis began, as his hand crept towards his belt, where a scabbard hung. "Have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Oh really?"

But Arthur got no chance to say anything else as Francis shot up towards him, knocking him back as their swords clashed. Arthur's reflexes had kicked in, and he had just barely managed to counter the blow. Trying to throw the man back gave him no success whatsoever and with only a few more meetings of their swords, Arthur stumbled backwards, landing softly on the ground.

Peering down at him, Francis grinned, "Surrendering, my dear?"

Arthur grinned back, and kicked at Francis' legs. Not being prepared at all, the man stumbled and fell to the ground right next to Arthur.

Forgetting his sword, Arthur climbed on top of Francis, forcing him to stay down, and said, voice full of triumph; "To you? Never."

As Francis' face twisted in an unreadable smile and his hands touched Arthur's knees ever so slightly, Arthur remembered what kind of position the two were in. Before Francis got the chance to even open his mouth in return, Arthur flew off him and sat down on the grass next to him, face tinted red as he reached for his sword again.

Flushed in embarrassment, Francis would say. Out of breath from the fight, Arthur would say.

Either way, Francis shot Arthur a smile as he too sat up, not bothering to pick up his own sword. Just looking at Arthur with those blue eyes, he seemed just as serene as he had been before Arthur had approached him.

"I-"

"What-"

They spoke at the same time, and Francis once again fell into silence, motioning with his hand for Arthur too keep going. Clearing his throat, Arthur asked; "What are you really doing out here?"

Francis chuckled, "I have not been telling you lies. I was merely resting."

Arthur was sceptical. "And you had to come to Spades territory to do that?"

"What can I say?" Francis looked up at the open skies above them. The skies were as blue as his eyes, and Arthur hated himself for noticing it. "You do have beautiful nature."

The nature around them was truly beautiful, with green oaks, ground covered by high grass and earthy moss. A few stray flowers in all the colors of the rainbow littered the edges of the glade, and now that Arthur thought about it, it looked like a scene from a fairy tale, with elves dancing and unicorns prancing.

"Then again," Francis continued, locking eyes with Arthur and moving a bit closer to put a warm hand on his thigh, "Everything in your kingdom seems to be beautiful."

"I- Wha- You-," Arthur sputtered, swiftly scrambling away from the king of Diamonds, "This is highly inappropriate!"

"Oh, if you only had a personality to match your looks," Francis said dramatically, his hand releasing Arthur's thigh in favor for pushing his own golden locks from his eyes.

"You- I have plenty of personality!"

Sighing, Francis looked at him again with that smile of his, that somehow managed to be seductive without even trying, and make butterflies flutter in Arthur's stomach.

"You sure do, just not the right kind."

"That's rich, coming from someone like you. I'm leaving and I suggest you do the same." Arthur got off the ground, and Francis followed suit.

"I did not say," Francis murmured, a hand closing around Arthur's wrist, "That it was exclusively a bad thing."

Rendered mute, Arthur just followed Francis' hands with his gaze, as they wandered from his wrists and up his arms, finally finding a place at the nape of his neck. He felt his skin rise at Francis' touch, hypersensitive under the man's large palms that spread heat through his skin. His heart beat faster, and faster, as Francis leaned in closer, lips millimeters apart, and still Arthur couldn't bring himself to move.

Francis lips were soft, gentle, and tasted like sunshine and strawberries as he kissed Arthur.

At first, Arthur felt paralyzed, frozen in his spot – but as Francis ran his thumbs over his cheeks, stroking them gently, Arthur's body responded, almost on its own. His eyes fell shut and his mouth opened to kiss back, sliding Francis' lips against his own. Hands found their way to tangle in the king's yellow tunic, grasping to feel the warmth that radiated from the skin underneath.

Francis' proud and smug smirk against his lips became too much for Arthur, and he pushed the man away with a rough shove.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" he shouted, out of breath, face turning red.

"Do not act as if you did not enjoy it."

"That is completely besides the point."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really"?

"Yes, really," Arthur brushed his clothed free from dust and wrinkles as he turned around. "If you know what's good for you, you should leave."

"Before the guards get me?" Francis sounded amused, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was not going to send the guards after you, but if you do not leave this instant, maybe I will change my mind."

"You would not do that."

Glancing back, just before he left the glade, he smirked at Francis, "Do you dare to test me?"

As he was met with only silence and hurried steps in the opposite direction, Arthur was pleased with himself.

One thing he was not pleased with however, was the tingling that Francis had left on his lips and the empty cold that remained on his skin when it was not touched by the burning fire that was the king of Diamonds.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: A chapter from Francis' POV this time. I am terribly sorry for the delay, I will try to keep my updates regular in the future. Also, as this is not going to be a very long fic, we're about halfway through now, yay. :D_

_I hope you enjoy! :)_

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><p>Francis was a man who enjoyed the simple, yet beautiful things in life. He fancied long walks in the woods, spending time in his wine yard, and watching the sun go down over his kingdom. Very cheesy it could seem, but those were the tastes of the romantic king of Diamonds. Never had he been lacking these beautiful things, and never could he imagine being without them.<p>

Born into royalty, he had inherited the power over a beautiful kingdom, and thanks to his parents' non-stop meddling with his life, he had gained a beautiful wife to accompany him through life. While Lily was a pretty woman, more than fit to be a queen, with her golden hair and large blue eyes – there had never been a spark. Their marriage was a completely arranged one, and while love could blossom from those, this was clearly not the case here.

Always having been able to get his fix elsewhere, Francis had never complained. Lily knew about his affairs with common women and men, and she simply did not care, as long as Francis always returned home, and remained to her the gentleman that he had always been.

Besides, even if romantic attraction and love had sparked between the king and his queen, Lily's older brother, and Francis' closest man, would not have accepted it. He knew of Francis' flirtatious nature, and would not have allowed a relationship that could possibly end with Lily getting hurt.

And so, Francis could carry on enjoying those small, simple pleasures in his life as a king.

Scrambling out of the forest that day, with his heart beating hard in his chest, made him reevaluate his choices. Because on this particular day, he found himself as the hunter, and not just the one sitting calmly back as he was showered with affection. This time, when he really wanted something, the something fought back, resisted, and even though there was some response, it was not what he was used to.

After this afternoon with Arthur, this gorgeous man, he was set on having him. He wanted those green eyes to flutter shut, that pretty mouth to moan, that tight body to sing in pleasure. He wanted the entirety of this being at his fingertips, and to have the pleasure of watching this beauty up close.

There was something more though, something beyond the pretty face, and delicious body. There was something obstinate in those green eyes of Arthur's, something that refused to give in to Francis fully. It bothered him at the same time as it fascinated him immensely. This man, that was not his, that would not be his, that maybe, just maybe, could pretend to be his.

Francis was not a man who gave up easily.

So he returned to the glade, just on the other side of the border to the kingdom of Spades, day after day, just sitting in the grass. Sometimes the sun shone down on him, warming his skin, sometimes the rain fell heavy on him, wetting him to the bone – but return he did though, waiting for that slim chance that maybe a certain man would find him and lay down at his side, quiet and still.

Well, considering Arthur's grace, Francis would probably be rudely awakened by the hard toe of a well-polished shoe in his side, and not the alluring presence of another being right next to him – if he ever were to be found at all, that is.

A week went by and then another and Francis thought that maybe he was fooling himself with this illusion of green eyes and unruly hair, coming back to find him in this secluded glade, somewhere close to paradise. But even so, he waited, this last day.

The sound of the wind through the green leaves lulled him to sleep in the calm wilderness, and with his back against the ground, only the thin fabric of his shirt separating his skin from the moss, he fell into a land of dreams.

Dreaming of wonderful things that only left a faint remnant in his mind when he awoke, he slept through the quiet footsteps closing in on him and the hushed voice calling his name.

He didn't realize that he had fallen asleep until he woke in a disarray, sitting up straight. The sky had darkened and at the horizon, the light of sunset colored the forest red.

"You snore worse than my granny did at her bad days." A voice cut through the silence in the woods and Francis, startled by the sound of it, turned swiftly towards the source of it.

No one less than Arthur Kirkland Jones sat by his side, dark blue shirt slightly skewered on his upper body and hair in its usual messy state. Green eyes looked anywhere but at Francis, and he couldn't contain his laughter as Arthur seemed really set on not giving him any further attention.

Arthur's eyes narrowed at Francis' low chuckles, "What are you laughing at?"

"You are so very cute when you are quiet like this."

"I am _not_ cute!" Arthur claimed. "I'm handsome."

"Oh, right."

It was at that point that Francis noticed the blue coat thrown across his lap.

"Concerned about my well-being, hmm?" he teased, throwing a flirtatious glance, head bowed down and peering at Arthur through blonde eyelashes.

"It would not be beneficial for me if your incompetent arse got yourself killed on my grounds," Arthur explained. "It's cold and there are dangerous creatures out here."

"You could have just woken me up," Francis pointed out and watched Arthur mutter something intelligible in return.

"Maybe," he continued, smirking and pulling the coat up to his face while creeping a bit closer to Arthur, "You just wanted to watch me sleep."

Arthur turned another shade of red and turned away from Francis.

"Maybe you do care about me," Francis continued, pressing even closer, with Arthur's coat in his grasp.

"Maybe it's a principle for decent people not to let other people die alone in the forest," Arthur shot back, defiantly. Francis snorted. "Then again, I suppose you wouldn't know anything of that."

"No?" Francis questioned. "I am a perfect gentleman."

"As if. You are a slimy bastard who enjoys making life sour for other people."

"You talk as if you know me." Francis was amused. If he had managed to leave such a trace in the man's heart then he definitely had to be doing something right. Arthur once again looked in the other direction, avoiding Francis blue eyes and the piercing gaze directed at him.

"Now," Arthur started again, after a brief pause in conversation. "I have more important matters to tend to."

As Arthur rose from the ground, dusting off his pants, Francis felt like he needed to do something. He had not come here every day for weeks just to throw this moment away. Holding tightly onto the coat in his arms, he watched Arthur intently. He earned a glance from the other man.

"My coat, if you please."

Smirking, Francis saw his chance. He scrambled to his feet, hiding the jacket behind his back.

"Come and get it."

"Hand it over."

Despite Arthur's insistence, Francis just smiled, raised an eyebrow and repeated his words. Arthur sighed heavily and stepped over to Francis. They were eye to eye and Arthur reached behind Francis to grab his coat when Francis suddenly let it fall to the ground and grabbed Arthur by the shoulders instead.

"What are you-"

Once again, Francis kissed him, without any words of warning, without giving Arthur time to brace himself. Pouring every last bit of passion into the kiss, Francis felt Arthur soften under his hands and his lips, melt into him as the man went pliant and responding.

Arthur kissed him back, responding with every last bit of emotion as his lips went hot and needy and his arms snaked up to wrap around Francis' broad shoulders.

Francis sighed, hands slipping down over Arthur's chest, feeling his warmth as they got closer and closer.

Pulling away, not further than a few millimeters, Arthur's green eyes opened, half-lidded looking into Francis'.

"What are you doing?" he repeated in a voice that was little more than a whisper – but this time, he didn't pull away. Francis stomach did flips that he couldn't understand, and his body telling him to kiss Arthur again outweighed his mind telling him to stop, to answer, to tease.

They got wrapped up again, Arthur's arms slung over Francis' shoulders and Francis' hands on Arthur's hips.

As Francis sucked Arthur's lower lip into his mouth, working it softly between his teeth, he felt Arthur's shaky breath against his face. Pulling back, Francis watched Arthur's insecure face with a smirk. He found enjoyment in watching Arthur's green eyes slip open again, glossy and dazed.

Just as he thought that he got him, right when he thought that he had him wrapped around his finger, Arthur pushed at his chest, the snarky look on his face back as if it had never disappeared.

"That all you got, frog?" he said as he leaned closer again, pushing his index finger into Francis' sternum, warm breath washing over his face.

"Aren't you a minx, my queen?" Francis shot back, desperate to regain control over the situation again. "Have you not a king of your own to kiss?"

Arthur spluttered before answering, "You are the one who came onto me!"

"True." Francis once again smirked at Arthur's sudden timidity. Arthur once again looked extremely awkward, and stepped to pick up his coat from where Francis had dropped it on the ground.

"Now," he cleared his throat. "I must be leaving."

"Arthur," Francis said, and he realized that this was the first time he had called the man by name. Arthur himself seemed to realize this as well as his head shot up, green eyes wide.

"Arthur," he repeated, "Meet me here again in two days."

"Why?"

"Do not tell me you don't enjoy these little encounters," he smirked.

"I don't. I don't enjoy your presence and I don't enjoy meeting you."

Arthur turned his back to Francis, taking long, liberate steps out of the glade. Blue eyes followed his every movement.

And then he stopped. Turning his head slightly to the side, he said; "Four days. Alfred will come home and leave again in four days."

A smirk rose to Francis' lips and as if Arthur could sense it, he added; "And it's _not_ because I like you."

"Of course not, dearest queen."

A faint fluttering in Francis' stomach alarmed him, as he watched Arthur's back disappear in the beckoning darkness. Maybe this whole thing was more than just bodily lust, more than the urges for beauty and pleasure that seemed to always come back to his mind. Arthur did have something intensely attractive, something that Francis just could not explain, something that lingered in his heart like nothing else had before.

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><p><em>Reviews make me happy. :)<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Before anything else, there** is** quite descriptive smut, a.k.a sex, in this chapter, ye be warned. ;) I am sorry for the wait, things have been crazy in RL and I've had very little time to sit down and write. _

_Also, a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it really means a lot, even if I am super bad at responding. From now on I will try to respond to all reviews I get – if I get any, that is. XD_

_Anyway, onwards! :)_

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><p>And so they spent days and weeks, secret meetings turning heated, deep in the secluded forest. Arthur would be free to go every time Alfred was away, no one ever questioned him. Francis was a king, so Arthur just assumed that he didn't get in trouble either. Even if he did, he was not telling Arthur of it, neither did it disturb their time together.<p>

Though one night, a maid was being especially tiring, constantly demanding his opinion on trivial things as he was trying, as carefully as possible, to get ready for his rendezvous to the forest.

When he finally got away, the sun had almost set beneath the horizon, and the garden, the forest and the trail leading to the glade laid bathed in darkness. Still his feet knew the way and the trusty lantern in his hand showered light upon the scene before him. Francis was already there, of course, his golden hair and blue eyes reflecting the warm light as Arthur closed in on the man.

"Awfully late today, Arthur." The first names were becoming a habit, a habit Arthur didn't really like to admit to having, even less enjoying.

"You could stand to wait, Francis."

"But the sun has long set," Francis turned his body towards Arthur. "How am I to see your lovely face in this complete and utter darkness?"

"Stop being so ridiculous," Arthur snapped and looked around. It was getting terribly dark, and it did cause him a bit of unwanted dismay not to be able to regard Francis in all his glory. "It is getting a bit dark, though. I wouldn't want you to get lost on your way home."

"What are you proposing?" Francis asked, stepping closer, his hand finding Arthur's on the lantern. Arthur's green eyes, laced with uncertainty, met Francis' blue ones, seductive and deep. The butterflies that had nested in Arthur's stomach for the last couple of weeks were fluttering desperately as Francis watched him with interest.

"What I am proposing," Arthur said slowly, battling with his body to keep his heart from racing and his breathing to quicken when he felt Francis' hot breath on his face, "Is for you to spend the night at the castle."

Francis smirked. He let his hand run up Arthur's hand, arm and neck to at last rest on his cheek, thumb stroking over his lower lip. Arthur's breath hitched as Francis got so close that he was almost too close, radiating with heat and electricity.

Bringing his other hand to Arthur's face, his breath flitting over Arthur's skin and his lips almost touched Arthur's as he spoke in the slightest murmur, "I accept."

Arthur shivered and his fingers tightened involuntarily around the handle of the lantern. His other hand gripped at Francis' heavy coat and he pressed his lips firmly to the king's. The kiss quickly turned heated, with tongues and lips sliding and pressing to get closer yet.

As Francis' hands found their way to Arthur's hips, and pushed against him, Arthur moaned quietly and sucked Francis' lip into his mouth.

"Getting carried away, dear?" Francis murmured and let a light hand run over the front of Arthur's pants.

It was as if everything happened all at once from that point forward. Francis' gleaming eyes sought out Arthur's and Arthur grabbed him by the hand, ignoring the carefree laughter that sounded as the duo walked together, hurried, along the trail that led back to the castle of Spades.

"No one will see us?" Francis whispered, creeping close and running hands over Arthur's chest as they reached the grand garden. The queen swallowed heavily and suppressed a sigh of pleasure, trying to keep his head clear long enough for them to reach the bedroom.

"No. The staff are not allowed out of their quarters at this time."

"And Alfred?"

"I do not meet you when he is home."

"True," Francis murmured and kissed Arthur.

They entered through a small side door that Arthur claimed to be a shortcut that guaranteed that the maids wouldn't spot them. Francis just smiled at him before he pushed him against the wall inside to kiss him hard. The desire in the pit of Arthur's stomach spiked once again and he pressed back against Francis as the man wedged a knee between his thighs.

Throwing his head back, Arthur broke the kiss with a gasp.

"Stop it," he said, mouth pressed against the side of Francis' face. "The bedroom is down the hall."

"Lead the way, my queen."

An almost feline grin spread over Francis' face as Arthur once again grabbed him by the wrist to drag him to their final destination.

Inside the safe confines of the bedroom of the queen and king of Spades, there were no thoughts of the possibility that maybe, maybe, there had been _someone_ in the hallway not accounted for, a servant straying in the night.

When coats and boots were lost and Arthur pushed Francis down on the unnecessarily large bed, all he could see was Francis, tan skin and golden hair against rich dark blue, satin sheets; all he could hear was Francis' deep laughter; all he could feel was the desire, the want pumping through him; and all he could think of was the things they'd do, until night turned to morning.

Straddling the king, leaning down over him to press a kiss to full lips, Arthur felt the unmistakable evidence of Francis' matching feelings off passion poking through well-pressed, pristine pants. The smirk and proud chuckle turned into a moan, low and rumbling in his chest, as Francis ran his hands over Arthur's back and ass, kneading and squeezing.

"Is this your king's bed?" Francis murmured as he sat up to press hurried kisses along Arthur's collarbone.

"Mm, it's our bed, yes."

"How does it feel," Francis pressed as his hands searched beneath layers of clothing, for the soft skin and hard cock that was hidden underneath. "To be with me, with his scent all around us?"

Feeling Francis warm hand wrap around his cock, Arthur moaned, unable to find the words to answer the king of Diamonds' vulgar question. He wrapped his arms around Francis neck and buried his face in fair hair as one of the king's hands stroked him vigorously while the other squeezed his behind, pressing him closer to that warm body.

"Fraa- Francis-" Arthur gasped and fumbled with the first buttons of Francis golden shirt, fingers not doing as they were told when his brains were muddled with the sweet agony of Francis fingers on his skin, stroking and squeezing and bringing him higher with each moment that passed by. "C-clothes, Fr-"

"Hm?" Francis pressed a soft kiss to Arthur's Adam's apple and leaned back, releasing Arthur in favor for regarding him silently. The queen took two long, slow breaths, his green eyes half-lidded and hazy as he met Francis' electric gaze. Not saying anything else, he continued with the small buttons of Francis' shirt, with every flick of fingers revealing more tanned skin littered with soft, fair hairs.

When the entirety of Francis' broad, well-built chest was exposed before his eyes, Arthur immediately felt embarrassed in getting nude himself, scared to look pale and slight next to this Adonis of a man that was sprawled on the sheets. Francis seemed to notice – because like always, he found a way into Arthur's mind – and squeezed his thigh softly.

"I want to see you, beautiful." His hands slid up Arthur's slim legs, over his bony hips and in under the midnight blue shirt. "Show me?"

"I'm not beautiful," Arthur argued, but still he let the buttons slide through the holes in the fabric, and the shirt soon fell open, revealing pale skin stretched over bones and slender muscles. Francis ran his hands over Arthur's chest, tracing the lines of his ribs and pinching the pink nipples softly.

"Oh, but you are. A bit unrefined, but beautiful nonetheless."

"Shut up."

A chuckle escaped Francis' lips and he sat up, murmuring against Arthur's lips before kissing him again; "Now, if only the inside was as pretty."

Once again, Arthur was swept away by the king's tender kisses, skillful tongue teasing its way into his mouth, engaging an an erotic dance, in perfect harmony.

_No, no, no,_ he shouldn't be this captivated by this bastard, this gorgeous man, with a silver tongue and a dark mind to contrast. He placed his hands on Francis shoulders, pressing him down on the blue sheets. His skin so golden, his eyes so blue, he looked like an angel from the high heavens that had crashed into the darkness, into the blues and blacks and silvers of this room that belonged to someone else – and into the arms of a man who also belonged to someone else.

Arthur let his hands caress Francis' cheeks and neck, nails rasping softly down his torso, over nipples that where erect in the chilly night, and down to the trail of soft hairs that disappeared under the lining on his pants.

"Enjoying the view?" Francis interrupted, obviously liking to ruin nice moments like this one with comments that were embarrassing and annoying.

"No. Be quiet."

"No?" Francis once again grabbed Arthur's crotch, this time harder, more fully. "This _here_ tells me differently."

The desperate efforts Arthur made to keep quiet seemed pointless as Francis' fingers played over his skin, as Francis' voice filled his ears, as Francis' soul invaded his, setting everything he knew on fire. He moaned shamelessly, arching his back, pressing his erection against Francis.

"Okay," Arthur breathed. "Maybe a little." He trailed his fingers through Francis' long hair as it created a halo around his head where he laid on the dark sheets of the large bed. Smiling softly, he leaned down to kiss Francis again, closing his eyes to just get caught up in the moment and the feelings.

No more than mere moments passed, kisses turned harsh and passionate, and soon the two were sprawled on the bed, naked as the day they were born. Francis, with his lean muscles, built chest and long curved cock, laid back against deep blue, straddled by Arthur, skinny and pale, piercing green eyes burning for Francis.

Long, slender fingers trailed up Arthur's body to poke at his lips. Eagerly, Arthur took them into his mouth, licking and sucking until they were wet and Francis groaned beneath him. Bringing his fingers back to Arthur's ass, he spread him open and pushed a slick finger into him. Arthur gasped and clung to Francis' shoulders, lips finding his neck, sucking and kissing and licking as Francis added another finger, stretching his tight hole.

"Ready for me, love?" Francis voice was deep, smoky, and laced with something so toxic, so sexual, and Arthur was not sure what was up and down anymore.

"Hn," he groaned out, bracing his arms against Francis' chest. "D-on't call me th-that."

Once again, a smile flashed over Francis' face, and he brought Arthur down over him, around him. A pain sharper than he was used to flashed through Arthur's body. Francis was bigger than Alfred, filling him in new ways as he pushed inside. Still Arthur cried out when Francis, scalding hot and gorgeous, hit that something inside him that made him think that he couldn't take the pleasure any longer. The king's arms were around him in a second, holding him close to his chest and stroking his hair as he slowly slid his cock out, only to push into Arthur again, drawing another moan from the queen of Spades.

"Why not, _love_?"

Arthur couldn't remember what Francis was asking, not when his head was this fuzzy, and instead of answering, he pushed through the sweet agony, pressing Francis into the mattress, grinding down against him. He took over control, hands on Francis shoulders, hips moving slowly up and down despite Francis' attempts to push him into a faster pace with heavy hands in his hips.

The king's breathing was becoming ragged and the small, deep moans that slipped from that mouth blended with Arthur's shriller, more desperate ones and created a wonderfully obscene melody of sex and desire that echoed against the stone walls of the castle. It was only one on many things that at last turned Arthur's vision white and his body rigid as he came harder than he had in a long, long time.

Francis followed soon after, emptying his release deep inside Arthur with a long moan and a hard squeeze on Arthur's hips. The queen leaned down to kiss him, more gentle than he ever had before, the hazy afterglow making displays of affection easier.

Instead of laying down to sleep when Arthur slid off him and flopped down at his side, Francis leaned over Arthur's body, pressing feather light kisses over his shoulder and neck.

Arthur felt the smirk against his jaw, and was not surprised when Francis' hand traced over his thigh and a deep voice whispered; "Round two?"

Smiling, he kissed Francis and threw his arms around his neck.

...

When the early morning light seeped in through the large windows, Francis kissed Arthur's lips, lingering for a few moments, not wanting to go, knowing that he had to.

"I trust you will find your way out," Arthur muttered, burying his face in the pillows, not looking at Francis as the king made his way across the floor to find his clothes carelessly thrown across the bed and the floor.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

"And you are not to be seen."

"Please. That's the least of my worries," Francis sighed as he buttoned his shirt, tucking it into his pants before running fingers through his hair, trying to undo the worst tangles.

"Is that so?"

"Do you not think I'm missed at home?"

"I think you're good enough a liar to deal with it."

Francis snorted, "Glad you think so highly of me."

Arthur made a grimace and raised his hand in a come-hither gesture. When Francis stood before him, he grabbed his shirt to pull him down to his level, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. When he pulled away, Francis raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an intense gaze.

"My, my, you seem awfully affectionate. Is it the sex?"

Pressing his face into the pillows again to hide an oncoming blush, Arthur murmured; "Certainly isn't your personality."

Francis chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Goodbye, love."

...

Alfred arrived home that same afternoon. Tousled hair and bright eyes met Arthur at the gates and the king of Spades scooped his queen into his arms, lifting him into a bone-crushing embrace with strong arms.

"Missed me?" he cheerfully asked, after having showered Arthur's cheeks, nose, forehead and lips with sweet, innocent, happy kisses. Arthur just smiled, trying to act normal when Alfred kissed him, as if nothing was different, as if he still was everything that Alfred expected him to be.

"My queen. My dear queen. I've missed you," Alfred murmured into Arthur's hair as he hugged him close.

Alfred was warm, but Francis was warmer, and Arthur wondered what he had gotten himself into.

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><p><em>Reviews are loved and cherished, as usual. :)<em>


	5. Chapter 5

Francis didn't see Arthur for three weeks after the night the two shared.

Coming home that morning, he had to lie up a story about ferocious beasts in the midst of the Spades wilderness, lost paths and forest nymphs. Raising an eyebrow, his queen only chuckled quietly and stood up on her tippy-toes to kiss him gently on the cheek.

"As long as you get your work done," she said politely. Francis was happy to have her, and while she was not as naïve as to believe him, she understood him well enough to let it slip, for the time being. The problem was not Lili, the problem was work. During these weeks of spending days with this newfound interest of his, he had gotten behind on paperwork.

He had tried to work, mind you, but with venom green eyes haunting his mind, he had all too easily fallen into a world of fantasies.

Ten days after The Night, Lili slipped into his office.

"Francis, I do not wish to be rude, but we have planning to do for the upcoming ball."

_Well, gosh darn it._

"Ah, yes, of course," he muttered, scanning the last line on the paper he was currently examining. He had forgotten about the ball that he and his kingdom was to host next Saturday.

"You have not forgotten, have you?" Lili said, sharp as always. She walked up to him glancing at the mess at his desk as she placed a hand on his shoulder. The long, wide sleeve of her dress brushed against him, and he smiled.

"No, of course not, my dear," Francis muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Francis, what is up with you?" Lili looked at him with concern glittering in her green eyes. "You have not been yourself these last couple of weeks."

Francis had no idea what to answer, so he just shifted his papers, ran his thumb over the text on a new document and dismissed it; "It's nothing."

"I'm only looking out for you," Lili pressed on, squeezing his shoulder a bit more firmly. Francis sighed.

"I will be with you in a moment for ball preparations, please wait for me in the great hall."

While his queen didn't seem happy with the answer, she ran a hand over his hair and murmured a quiet "Okay," before leaving him to the loneliness of his office, with piles of paperwork taunting him silently by simply being there.

A lot of work and no kisses made Francis irritable and he was very aware of the fact that he was grumpy to his servants as well as his queen and generals. And then there was the ball. Balls were fun, full of beautiful people having fun, and while Francis enjoyed them immensely, the planning was not all that exciting.

Then again, it might just be the break Francis needed from his eternal paper work. Heading down the hallway, he decided that yes, so was probably the case.

Also, hosting a ball meant guests from all the other kingdoms. Including the kingdom of Spades. Which of course meant Arthur. Unfortunately, it meant Alfred as well. It did make Francis a bit concerned. He remembered the last ball, where he had danced so close with Arthur, bodies close enough to share body heat; Arthur's face tinted pink as Francis' smile turned the level of charm off the scales.

After what he and Arthur had done, especially during The Night, he doubted that he could hold himself back and just dance with the grumpy queen. Even when they were apart, Francis felt a dull longing, a need to be where Arthur was, to see his face, hold his hands and kiss his lips. What would happen when he was able to regard him in all his glory but forbidden touch him?

Lili met Francis in the great hall, just as they had said. She was sitting on a chair at the long table, fiddling with the golden tablecloth. Her head shot up when Francis entered the room, clearing his throat in the process.

"Hello, Francis," she smiled, standing up to greet him with a peck on the cheek. "Shall we?"

"Of course, love."

Lili had such a calming effect on him, and Francis thought to himself that maybe, if their marriage was not such an arranged one, he would have fallen for her long ago. That shy smile of hers, the small laugh she uttered when she found something funny, her beauty, her kindness. It certainly would have been easier, to have the target for his romance, his love, his passion so close, all the time. To be able to claim them as his own.

It was all a bit too late now. The odd emotions he had, the dreams infested by Arthur, the lingering heat on his skin from where Arthur had touched him. It all made him certain that there would be no one else. Maybe his best bet was to break things off with Arthur and give a chance to the lovely lady who was always at his side.

When the night of the ball came, he knew that even though breaking off this little affair was what could bring about happiness in the end, it would be impossible.

Every single one of the guests was beautiful. Ivan and Elizaveta, matching in green colors and earthy patters – Ludwig and Kiku, hearts in pink and red revealing just what kingdom they represented – and then there's Alfred and Arthur, stinging Francis' heart by looking so perfect for one another in their midnight blues and violets.

Alfred was a proper and handsome man, but right now, he was standing in the shadow of his queen. A large bow was wrapped around Arthur's neck, falling down over the dark coat and the purple vest, and a matching hat sat on the top of his head. He was so beautiful when he was dressed up nice, ready to take on and impress an entire world.

Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, beautiful in the rough Arthur, grumpy but still charming Arthur, unbearably sexual Arthur. There was absolutely no way of giving up Arthur, no way of leaving him in another man's grasp, in another man's bed, in another man's heart.

It was customary for the hosting couple to welcome every guest, every royal guest at least, personally, and after having traded formalities with both the Clubs and the Hearts, Francis praising their exquisite outfit for the night, Lili having her hand and cheeks kissed by their them, both proclaiming what honor it was to have them here, they finally got to Alfred and Arthur.

Alfred had a firm handshake, the raw strength of the king of Spades showing in even such a simple action. Alfred was rarely a threatening man though, because even if his hands were strong, his smile was cheerful and his eyes kind.

"You look lovely today, Lili," he said as he brought her hand to his lips to give a small peck. A small blush rose to her cheeks and she murmured a small thank you as she smiled at the King of Spades.

And then there was Arthur, the one who had visited Francis' dreams every night for weeks, the one with whom he shared such an intimate and forbidden secret. Taking his hand, feeling his warmth, but knowing he could not give him more than a kiss on the back of his hand and a fierce look that he hoped Alfred would overlook, was unbearable.

He pressed his lips against the soft skin of Arthur's hand, closing his eyes for just a moment to take in the feel and the scent of Arthur. He might have lingered for longer than he should have, but no one seemed to notice.

"A pleasure to have you here tonight," Francis said softly, to both halves of the Spades royalty, though his eyes were fixed of Arthur's.

"A pleasure to be here," Alfred exclaimed, turning Francis' attention away from the queen of Spades.

"Yes, a pleasure," Arthur echoed with a small cough.

"Francis, you have really outdone yourself this time," Alfred continued as he looked around the room, taking in the golden paradise that the great hall of the castle of Diamonds had turned into. Francis noticed that he pulled Arthur a bit closer in the process, with a hand securely placed on his queen's waist. It aggravated him, because _he_ wanted to be the one with a hand on Arthur's waist, pulling him close enough to feel his breathing and his heartbeat.

Of course, had it been Francis, hands probably wouldn't have stayed on Arthur's waist.

"I would have to say that my dear queen played a big part in designing tonight's decorations," he answered, smiling at Lili, who stood, quiet and beautiful, at his side.

"Oh? My compliments to the lovely queen then," Alfred said with a smile. Lili nodded in return and Francis eye caught Arthur's again, only for a second, before the queen of Spades tore his gaze away, to aimlessly look out across the room.

"I think the orchestra is getting impatient, maybe we should start the dancing," Francis declared, and pulled Lili along to get the ball started for real.

The first dance of the night was of course saved for Lili, his queen, his companion. The petit woman danced effortlessly, following Francis lead gracefully. Across the room, Francis could see the king of Spades twirling his queen around, and Arthur didn't seem as bothered as Francis would think, actually smiling as his coat whipped around him when the couple spun.

His stomach turned and he felt cold. Francis was not used to jealousy, and tonight seemed to be an evening dedicated to only those emotions. He danced with Elizaveta, he danced with Kiku, and he even shared a most awkward moment of dancing with Ludwig, which ended in much laughter on Francis' part and a lot of blushing on Ludwig's.

Then he spotted Arthur again, still with Alfred's arm curled around his waist, holding him close. He couldn't hold back anymore, couldn't deny everything inside him that demanded him to be close to Arthur, even for something as short and swift as a dance. Still composed, he walked up to the pair.

"May I borrow your queen for this dance?" he asked Alfred with a soft smile.

"I don't know," Alfred teased, "Dear, what do you think?"

Arthur's eyes were wide, but Francis could see the something teasing and happy burning somewhere far back as the queen spoke; "If I must."

Francis smiled as he bowed and held his hand out for Arthur to grab.

"Then, may I have this dance?"

When Arthur took his hand, with an eagerness that was not reflected in his face of his words, Francis felt everything fall in place. He placed a hand on Arthur's waist, fighting not to let it slide lower, not to press Arthur's body closer, and pulled Arthur along in a wild dance. Arthur followed surprisingly easy, keeping up with his every single step Francis took.

Bringing his mouth in next to Arthur's ear, Francis whispered; "I have missed you, beautiful."

Arthur didn't turn down the compliment, instead he just muttered; "Alfred is watching."

But, as Francis noticed when he looked around the room, Alfred wasn't watching. He stood with his back turned to the dance floor, deeply engaged in a lively discussion with Ivan. Judging by their dramatic gestures and the fact that these two never seemed to get along at social gatherings, they would be there for a while.

Perfect. With Arthur so close to him, warm and absolutely gorgeous, the flickering spark of desire was lit aflame, violently demanding more. Frances steered the dance closer to the side of the room, keeping his eyes locked with Arthur's before he checked on Alfred one last time.

Then, in one swift movement, he slipped in behind a curtain, and out on the balcony behind it. Arthur didn't have time to protest, he only gasped in surprise and then Francis' lips were on his, Francis' body pressing him against the sturdy stone railing. Francis let his hands rest on Arthur's waist until he felt the queen answer his kiss, just as eager as he threw his arms around Francis' neck. Then the king's hands slipped down low, to squeeze that bottom that had tempted him all night.

Arthur gasped a low moan and Francis abandoned his lips to kiss his neck eagerly. Pulling at the straps of the ribbon, he bared more skin and sucked on Arthur's pulse point for a moment, leaving a small, red mark there.

"Francis," Arthur gasped and his hands tangled in Francis' long hair, mussing up the flawless, golden mane. "We really shouldn't be doing this right now."

Pressing kisses against Arthur's jaw, Francis murmured into his skin; "Arthur." He drew another stifled moan from Arthur's lips as he nipped at his earlobe. "I really don't care right now."

Groaning, Arthur gripped at Francis' hair and pulled him in to kiss his lips again. He was as eager and intense as he had been all those weeks ago, when they were lying on midnight blue sheets in another castle not too far from here. As Francis pressed Arthur harder against the railing, a thigh slipping in between Arthur's, his lips once again finding the Queen's throat, Arthur's head fell back, his mouth wide and gasping. As he tipped his head, gravity took control of his hat, and it fell off the hay-blonde mop of hair and down into the bushes of Francis' garden.

"Whoops," Francis whispered against Arthur's neck with a giggle.

"Not funny, don't stop," Arthur replied in a rushed babble, and Francis was more than happy to go with the dear queen's wishes. Once again, his lips found Arthur's his tongue delving into that hot little mouth to devour him, to map out every single taste and feeling as he poured all his emotion and repressed desire into that one kiss, hoping that Arthur got it, that Arthur felt the same.

Then again, if he didn't feel the same, he wouldn't take this risk, and that was more than enough for Francis. Just feeling Arthur's lips against his own, Arthur's hands in his hair, hearing Arthur's small gasps that only he could hear over the orchestral music of the ball, was enough for him to want to freeze time in this moment and re-live it forever until the end of time took them both away.

But no good things ever last, no hearts remain unbroken, and no secrets remain untold. The soft sound of the curtain being pulled open brought them back to the reality that neither of them wanted to face. Whipping around, Francis saw Lili stand there, curtain in her hand, staring with eyes big as saucers. She brought her hands to her mouth, but the curtain was still open, and Francis noticed that Lili wasn't the only one staring.

"I just –" she stumbled over her words, and Francis knew that she never intended for this to happen. He wanted to tell her that it was alright, but nothing was alright. Arthur gripped at Francis' arm and hid his face in his back, and as Francis saw Alfred approaching with rage in his steps, he felt an overpowering urge to protect Arthur from the king of Spades' anger.

Francis met Alfred's eyes as he got close, and said; "It's not what it looks like."

"Shut up." Alfred didn't look at Francis. Instead his eyes were fastened on Arthur, who he pulled out from behind Francis, rough hands gripping at his arms. "What are you doing?"

"It's not his-" Francis began but was met by Alfred's fist.

"Shut. Up," he growled. "I know it's not his fault. It's your fault."

Francis stumbled backwards but regained his balance again, tasting blood in his mouth, holding a hand at his cheek, where Alfred's fist had hit him. It was no use for him to get into a fight with Alfred. He knew that the young king was much stronger, and much more skilled in fight than he was himself. His gaze found Arthur, who said nothing and stood still at his king's side as Alfred glared daggers at Francis.

"That's enough, Alfred. Calm down," he said, careful to keep his distance from the enraged king.

"It's you who can never keep your hands where they belong! It's _you_ who seduced _my_ queen," he yelled, no caring in the least about what Francis had said. He turned his attention to Arthur, and said in a lower voice, a voice that hinted about the betrayal, the hurt he felt; "And you were stupid enough to fall for it. I thought you loved me!"

"Alfred, I just-" Arthur tried to defend himself, but was cut off short.

"I protected your honor when our maids claimed they'd seem other men in our castle during my absence." The realization hit Francis. They had been seen. And Alfred had trusted Arthur enough to not believe rumors from the maids. The look of absolute despair on Arthur's face told him that he was close to tears. He wanted to pull him close, kiss him until he didn't know why he was crying, and hold him in his arms forever.

In the current situation, that seemed like a bad idea.

"And then you betray me like this!" Alfred continued, he too looking close to tears. "I love you. Please tell me this is just a cruel joke."

"There is nothing more to say," Arthur said, voice strangled and weak. Pulling himself together, Alfred stood tall, looking down on both Francis and Arthur with judging, cold eyes. It was terrifying to see Alfred shift from raging to so serious and calm, when he usually was so all over the place. It couldn't mean anything good but Francis looked his straight in the eye, because maybe he could go out in some sort of style.

"We will be leaving. Thank you for a _lovely_ ball, my queen," Alfred spoke towards Lili this time, voice dripping with irony. Francis did nothing, for there was nothing he could do that would make this situation any brighter.

Somewhere deep down, he must have know this was the only way this could have ended. He had no one to blame but himself. Arthur couldn't possibly he held responsible for being so desirable, for being so warm to touch, so soft to kiss.

When the king and queen of Spades left, the light clattering of their shoes hitting the ballroom floor echoing, Arthur turned his head and looked at Francis. The emotions in his eyes overwhelmed Francis – but it wasn't the emotions that were there that overloaded his mind. It wasn't the fear, the sadness or the desperation.

It was the _lack_ of regret and pity.

Arthur still looked at Francis with the same fire, and Francis knew that if given the chance to go back in

time, they wouldn't change a single thing.

* * *

><p><em>AN: We're getting closer to the end, as you can probably tell, but this is not the last chapter. :) I will be honest with you; there is only one chapter left after this, and then maybe an epilogue. Both which might take a while to get right, so be patient with me. XD This chapter might be a bit stressed, but I wanted it up before I go out for the night. :D_

_I hope you enjoyed and reviews are both helpful and wonderful! :D_


	6. Chapter 6

For some morbid reason, Francis almost felt like laughing when he looked out over the room, taking in the shocked looks of everyone else in the room. Everyone else, who had disappeared to the back of his head, dismissed as unimportant, were staring at him. He stepped out on the ballroom floor to get everyone's attention, even if he was pretty certain that he already had it.

"As this night seems to be over, you may all take your leave," Francis announced, his voice surprisingly clear and steady as he spoke to the room. No one seemed to have a problem leaving; only giving him looks of confusion, disgust and pity as they left the room. Some greeted him goodbye, some said nothing as they walked past him and out.

When every one of the guests had left, the orchestra and the maids had been dismissed, Vash, Francis' trusty right hand and friend, approached him. "Lili will stay the night at my house. You need to get yourself together."

"Why won't she tell me this personally?"

"She is gravely disappointed with you."

"Are you?"

"What do you think?"

Francis didn't say anything, he didn't need to, so Vash continued; "I expect this little drama will not make any difference on you handling your duties."

When Francis gave him a pointed look, he added; "Other than our relations with the Spades."

"Tell Lili I'm sorry."

"Very well. Good night, Francis."

_What's so good about it_, Francis mused bitterly as Vash left, and Francis was left with nothing but himself, his emotions, his guilt (and his love, but that was not appropriate right now).

Swarmed with emotions, Francis decided that he didn't fancy it very much, being alone to handle every last feeling that rose to the surface from somewhere beneath. There was wine in the cabinet just inside the kitchen door though and wine always seemed to understand him, always seemed to make him feel like a new man, if only for the night.

Taking a chug straight from the bottle, feeling the warmth running through him, a warmth that would soon turn into a buzz, softly numbing his heart from the sharpness that seemed to want to destroy him, taking him far away, away from his duties, away from Lili, away from the world where there were Spades and Diamonds and Clubs and Hearts – to a place where only Francis and Arthur existed, where Francis and Arthur could be together all day, every day, and think of nothing but each other.

.-.

Alfred had refused to believe it. When a maid, arms covered to the elbows in dirt, dress torn around the edges, large eyes staring right at him with some sort of sincerity, had spoken to him, he had only waved her away.

"It's about the queen," she had said.

"It's important," she had said.

When the words _another man_ had rolled off her tongue, Alfred had yelled at her, scolded her, and sent her back to her quarters without further ado, because how had she dared talking like that about his queen, his better half, the one who was to be cherished above all else.

He adored Arthur, loved the man, probably more than what was appropriate in this day and age, and he couldn't imagine anyone loving Arthur more than he did. Their marriage, unlike many others nowadays, was a sincere one, one built on love, trust and the desire to spend the rest of their days with a person that they loved. At least, that's what it had always been to Alfred.

So when the golden ballroom fell quiet, when the gazes of the world's royalty turned towards the same spot, he swore he heard his heart breaking in two. When he saw _his queen_ in Francis' arms, his stomach tangled, threatening to throw up every last bit of food he had eaten today. When he noticed the dark mark on Arthur's neck, created by another's lips, he saw red.

He hadn't know whether to be angry, sad, scared, or something else entirely.

And now, back at the castle of Spades, he was numb. What could he do? Arthur was quiet next to him, not having uttered a single word since they left the ball.

"Why?" Alfred said, almost more to himself than to Arthur, his voice echoing over the stone walls. His queen turned away from him even more, throwing glances out the window. "Arthur, speak to me."

"There is nothing to say."

"How long?"

"Three months, give or take."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Why? Why didn't he know? Why wouldn't he say anything else? Why wouldn't he let Alfred in? Why wouldn't he just apologize? They could repair this, fix it, and make this love stand tall and strong again. Suddenly, the urge to vomit was coming back with full force to Alfred's stomach, with the betrayal, with the hurt.

"I have to go," he said. He couldn't stand these walls closing in on his, yet feeling so far away, the room to spacious, but also too tight, when Arthur was so distant, both in the flesh and in the mind.

"It's late," Arthur countered, looking as beautiful as he always did. Beauty meant nothing to Alfred now. Beauty was what had lured Francis in, what had turned Francis' charms on, what must have ultimately broken Arthur's resolve. Beauty was ugly, horrid and Alfred hated it.

"I don't care. I will be back and we will talk."

Too much, this was too much.

With the sickness in his stomach came pressing tears behind his eyelids. He hadn't cried, because keeping a face in front of the world was important, but now, it didn't matter. Before he was out the door, tears were streaming down his face because he was so scared. Scared that he was losing, losing his love, his life, his one true passion.

.-.

Lili curled up against Vash's chest, burying her face in his shoulder. He was warm and secure, steady heart beating under his ribcage, slow breathing lifting it rhythmically. He was like a cliff in the storm, and she was holding on to him, now when the wind blew harder than ever before, when she was threatened to fall to her knees, too weak to handle this alone.

"What do you think will happen, brother?"

"Impossible to tell," Vash sighed, wrapping his arms a little tighter around her.

Lili had never been in love with Francis. She had always known how he was, easily deluded by beauty, pleasure, and wealth, falling in and out of people's hearts and beds almost as easily as other people changed their clothes.

She never thought that he would make such a grave mistake though.

Being with someone who was married was bad.

Being with someone who was married to the king of the mightiest kingdom in this part of the world was just about the worst thing that you could do.

"I don't think there'll be a war though," Vash spoke again. "It's a personal issue, between the royalties of Spades and Diamonds. It's not enough to start a war."

Lili just stayed silent, and thought that even if it might not trigger a war, relations would probably not be the same, and there was the possibility that Francis would have to leave the throne if there was going to be any relations whatsoever between the kingdoms. That would of course mean that Lili had to go as well, to leave place for someone else. It would probably also mean that this marriage was over, that she and Francis would have to go on different paths.

.-.

Arthur didn't know what to do. He had caught sight of the bitter tears running down his husband's cheeks as the king of Spades had left the room. It hit him that he had never, in all the years that they had been together, seen him cry. He had not cried when his father died, neither during the wars when they had been so deep down under that Arthur had wondered if they'd ever see the surface again.

No, Alfred had always just pulled Arthur in close, told him that everything would be alright and then kissed him until they both were dizzy before laying him down on their bed, making love to him all night. Never showing his true colors, only the gleeful façade that he put up to the world, Alfred had danced carelessly in and out of Arthur's heart.

And now he cried. Arthur had never wanted to hurt Alfred.

In the beginning, he hadn't even intended for this _thing_ to happen. Then he had intended for Alfred to never find out. Looking back, he couldn't see how that would be possible. From that night several months ago, Arthur's thoughts kept straying to Francis. Everything, every course of action that had taken place, had become inevitable when Francis pulled him close in that dance on that particular night. Funny how it would end as it started, with a desperate dance of push and pull.

It had kept growing, this emotion, out of hand, and when Francis' first sweet kiss landed on Arthur's lips, there had been no turning back. It became too large to conceal, too hot to extinguish, and too sweet to let go of.

Arthur cried. Cried until he couldn't breathe, until he couldn't think. He didn't know what was going to happen. What would happen to himself, he couldn't care less about. What would happen to Francis, or rather, not knowing what _would_ happen, tore his guts, clenched his heart.

When the tears seemed to have ended, he wondered how he had allowed this to happen. How had Francis been able to affect him like this? How had he wormed his way into his heart like this? Even now, when everything was broken, the king of Diamonds' golden lock, his blue eyes, his sensual smile and sinful body haunted Arthur's mind, filling him with longing, with the knowledge that no matter what happened, it wouldn't be enough.

A lifetime with Francis wouldn't be enough.

Arthur heard the heavy oak gate open and close heavily again. Probably Alfred coming back, having pulled himself together at last.

_Stiff upper lip, it'll be alright_, he told himself.

Tears wiped on his sleeve, clothes straightened again, Arthur turned towards the door, towards Alfred, towards his fate and whatever future lied ahead.

.-.

The catastrophe was a fact only one week after the scandalous revelation at the ball. Only two days afterwards, a letter arrived, and none too surprising, the king of Spades demanded a shift of royaly in the kingdom of Diamonds, if trade and cooperation was to be upheld.

What choices were there? Spades had been a major trading partner for the Diamonds long before Francis sat on the throne, and if Francis left now, they would probably remain so. Maybe Vash could take over? Vash was fair, good and wise, having spent years and years by Francis' side, helping him through the most difficult of decisions.

Yes. Vash was more than able for the task, and he would guarantee Francis' safety. During these last few days, Francis had figured that he had to be brave, for this kingdom that he was so very fond of. What would be done next had to be for the greater good, for his kingdom. This was his fault, he brought this upon himself, and now he had to pay.

Walking around his castle, he figured that it would be hard to leave it. He had grown up within these walls, always knowing that everything the sun touched would one day be his. Every part of this golden paradise would be his and his alone. He was raised in wealth and beauty, to appreciate the lovely, wonderful things in life.

A small laugh escaped his lips, his gaze staring out the window, over the plains and forests that stretched out over his lands. In the end, it was this love for beauty that brought him down, that tore away everything he knew, pulled out the mat from underneath his feet and kicked him hard while he was still laying limp on the floor.

Lili was still staying with Vash, away from Francis, because even if their marriage hadn't been romantic, this whole affair had hurt her badly. So Francis, all alone, just waiting for his fate, walked out in his garden. The sun was shining, low over the horizon, bathing the graceful, golden garden in strange colors.

And then he spotted something dark, lying on top of a green bush with bright yellow flowers.

Arthur's hat. He remembered this hot kisses and rushed caresses that had led into the hat falling down into the garden. At that moment, things had been so easy, just Arthur's lips against his own, so very natural. Arthur's hands in his hair, tugging passionately, the heat of the moment dragging them away from the pressing reality that this affair was so forbidden.

And now it was a mess.

He took the hat, held it in his hand. It had that shade of blue that was so familiar to Francis, the shade that everyone associated with the kingdom of Spades. For Francis that very shade was associated with nothing but Arthur. It didn't smell like Arthur anymore though, not after laying in the sun, in a bush in Francis' garden for a week.

"Hey," a voice suddenly sounded from behind him. A voice, so very familiar but still so very out of place. It didn't belong here right now, nor would it ever belong here ever again. Still it was so clear and so recognizable in Francis' ears.

"Arthur! How did you-" Francis snapped around, towards the man. Why was he here? _How_ was he here? What could he possibly want now? What would happen? What-

"Shh," Arthur shushed him as he walked closer, interrupting both what he was going to say and what he was going to think. Arthur's eyes were so clear, so brilliantly intense, looking at him, through him, into him, all at the same time.

"But why-"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," Francis exclaimed. "Yes. You shouldn't be here. You can still-"

When Arthur kissed him, silencing his voice, there was no resistance left. Why would there be? There was no hope for Francis left. As soon as possible he would have to leave the throne, and while he then would be vulnerable to the king of Spades' anger, at least he wouldn't drag his kingdom down with him.

Kissing Arthur again was heaven. The warmth running through him had nothing to do with the temperature of the hot day, a last bit of heat from long hours of sun still hanging in the air. No, it was all Arthur, and nothing else, all soft lips and firm hands and everything all at once and _still_ it wasn't enough. Swinging Arthur around, he almost pushed him into the bush.

"I see you found my hat," Arthur murmured, still pressed tightly against Francis. The king of Diamonds just hummed, arms tightly wrapped around Arthur's waist.

It just might be the last time, he thought. He knew that Arthur had to go back, had to return to being a queen, someone else's queen. He knew that even now, they couldn't ever make it, couldn't ever be anything more than sweet memories, a little piece of something that could never really have been.

"Can you imagine what this could be if I was allowed to love you?" Francis whispered, pressing his lips into Arthur's hair.

"What if you are allowed to love me?" Arthur countered, his hands travelling over Francis' back, fisting desperately in his shirt, closer, closer, but never really close enough. Francis' eyes shot open, and he managed to squeeze out one sole syllable.

"… What?"

Arthur pulled away from the embrace, and green eyes, so very clear and piercing, pinned him in his spot, unable to move, speak or even breathe. A smile spread over his face, not happy, but not as bittersweet as Francis expected. Leaning in close, Francis saw tears forming in Arthur's eyes and the queen of Spades murmured low in his throat, lips just barely touching Francis'; "I can't let you go."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oh. My. God. It's done. Almost. There will be an epilogue (and an ending note), which is probably already up as you're reading this. If not, it'll be up very soon. :)_


	7. Epilogue

It was a bright day, the day when Vash was crowned king of Diamonds, sun high in the sky, illuminating the golden kingdom and its golden soon-to-be-king. Francis was the one to hand over the crown, putting it on top of Vash's blonde head. His hands shook slightly, but Vash's calm eyes looked at him with no resent, no judgment.

The crowd that had gathered in front of the palace to welcome the new king, wasn't so kind. It was all sorts of nobles, most of them appalled by the scandal. Francis could feel their gazes piercing through him, for he had disappointed his people. Standing aside, he let Vash stand up, spreading his arms wide as he took in the crowds cheering. Next to Francis stood Lili, as silent and beautiful as ever, eyeing her brother as he enjoyed the very first moments as king.

_The old king is dead, long live the king_, was that not the saying? Francis wasn't dead, per se, and neither did the people of Diamonds think he was. Still there was some sort of peace in knowing that when his royal life ended, another could begin, both for himself and for the kingdom.

The crowds roared with applauses and Francis remembered the day when he himself got the crown from his father. Never had he then imagined that he would have to leave it again so early, and so gracelessly, so hopelessly, so shamefully.

Afterwards, Francis exchanged a few words with the new king. All the formalities had already been take care of; every paper had already been signed and Francis had a new home waiting, in the outskirts of the capital city. All Francis had to do now was to go home, to his new life.

As he made his way away from the royal palace, leaving everything behind as the crowd thinned out, someone appeared at his side.

Arthur looked so very different when he was not dressed in the royal blue outfits fit for a queen. He almost seemed younger, his hair still ruffled but this time matched by a simple, white shirt and a heavy, brown coat. He didn't look as broken as one would think, having left his luxurious life even more abruptly than Francis, forced back into the life he had once left to become queen of Spades.

"You okay?" he asked, and his fingertips nudged at Francis' hand, sending little sparks of warmth through his skin. Francis glanced at the sky, so wide and endless over their heads. Smiling, he took Arthur's hand in his, fingers lacing together.

"I'm fine." He turned towards Arthur, smile wider than ever before. "I've never been better."

Flinging his arms around the other man, Francis lifted him off the ground, spinning around, fast enough for both of them to feel dizzy and lightheaded. As laughter bubbled through the former queen's body, Francis smiled sweetly and put him back down.

It was a smile that never seemed to leave his face, even as he leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to Arthur's lips.

* * *

><p><em>AN: And there we have it. Happy ending. I like happy endings. I hope you do too. I had to change the ending, because I was not at all content with the ending I had originally planned. I settled on a happy ending, because a royal scandal doesn't necessarily have to mean war._

_This story have been so very fun to write, even if it's short and brief, and you guys have been wonderful. I cherish every single review, fav and alert it has gotten, and I love you all. It was a sort of short story, but I feel accomplished for having finished it. :)_

_Thank you so much for reading, and if you enjoyed the ride (or just have any kind of comments), it would be really nice if you'd drop a review and let me know! :D_


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